When Wisdom Must Go
by AnicomicQueen
Summary: Bruce experiences taking his children to get their wisdom teeth removed.
1. Dick (Age: 17)

**A/N:** This is mostly fluffish crack...or maybe crackish fluff. It's just wisdom teeth getting pulled. Okay. (Reposted from AO3.)

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Alfred pulled up the curb in front of Witek Dentistry and put the car in park, automatically unlocking the doors so both of his passengers could get out for their appointment.

Bruce got out, then leaned back into the car. "This should take about an hour, Alfred. You don't have to wait here."

"Very good, sir. There are a few errands I planned to take care of while we're in town. But I shall be back in this very spot no later than eleven."

"Sounds great, Alfred. We'll look forward to seeing you then." Bruce shut the door and jogged over to Dick who was waiting by the stairs. He was leaning back on the railing with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

"You don't really think this is gonna take a whole hour. Do you, Bruce?" Dick asked as they climbed the six stairs leading up to the door.

Bruce grabbed the handle and put his hand on Dick's back, ushering him inside. "Yes. I really think it will take a whole hour. It'll take a few minutes to get you prepped for anesthesia. And their removing all four of your wisdom teeth. Each individual thing won't take long, but together it'll be about an hour."

"I don't see why I have to get them removed in the first place." Dick pouted and leaned against the wall by the front desk. "They don't even hurt."

Bruce gave him a withering look before turning to the receptionist. "Good morning, Angela," he said, smiling brightly at the blond woman.

"Welcome back, Mr. Wayne," she said back, just as brightly with a slight blush. The duo had been in here just a week ago for a check up prior to being notified the surgery was needed, and she relished every opportunity to see _Bruce Wayne_ in person. He was very photogenic, but the pictures in the tabloids paled in comparison to seeing him up close like this. She quickly composed herself and grabbed a pile of papers and a clipboard to give him. "If you could please fill these out, I'll take them whenever you're finished."

"Of course." Bruce tapped Dick on the arm and they sat down near the front of the waiting area across from a mother and her sleeping toddler.

Dick slouched in his seat with a heavy sigh. "This is so dumb. You know, my mom kept all her wisdom teeth?" he said indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Dick...I know you don't like the dentist. And I understand you don't want your wisdom teeth taken out. You have been _very_ vocal about that for the past week." He quickly checked the same boxes he'd checked last week and wrote in a few answers about family history. "But they have to come out. Your mother probably had the room for her wisdom teeth, but yours are growing in sideways." He looked at Dick out of the corner of his eye as he signed the bottom of the document. His charge was still slouched in the chair with his legs kicked straight out in front of him. "Sit up," Bruce chided, elbowing him in the side gently. "You're setting a bad example."

Dick groaned loudly, but sat up nonetheless.

"Here." Bruce handed him the clipboard and papers. "Go take these back up there. It'll give you something to do."

"Fine." Dick snatched the papers and gave them to Angela. Then he came back and dropped back down next to Bruce and heaved a heavy, forlorn sigh.

Bruce felt a twinge of guilt, just like he did every time they came here.

Dick had been terrified of the dentist ever since their first visit, and it was partially Bruce's fault.

They'd gone to Dr. Hampton for an initial screening and cleaning when Dick had been nine. It was the same dentist Bruce had been seeing since he was young. The man was extremely thorough. Made his teeth shine like the whitest pearls. But he was not gentle. Dr. Hampton had rightfully pulled a cavity ridden baby tooth but Dick had not been happy about it. After the appointment, Bruce had had no choice but to carry a hysterical, crying Dick away from the office and that was when he decided maybe they needed to find a more kid-friendly dentist.

Which was how they ended up finding Dr. Witek and his brood.

Unfortunately the damage had already been done. Even now, at seventeen years old, Dick loathed going to the dentist, even for something as simple as a cleaning.

Knowing that he was going to be put under and have teeth surgically removed? It was the lad's worst nightmare come true. All he'd been doing for the past week was research on what the worst possible side effects were going to be.

Bruce put an arm around Dick's shoulders. "Dick, just relax. I know you're scared. But it's gonna be okay."

Dick relaxed for all of a few seconds before tensing again when the anxiety returned in an instant, twirling around and around. He thought of everything that could go wrong and looked up at Bruce with mild terror.

"But….what if? What if I can feel them pulling them out? What if they don't give me enough anesthesia? And I wake up? You know Bobby in my biology class? He said his cousin's friend's sister woke up during hers and it was like a horror movie come to life. What if that happens to me?"

"Dick…" Bruce let out an exasperated sigh. The scenarios this kid came up with….He gave his son's shoulders a squeeze. "That's not going to happen. They know what their doing. They've done this procedure hundreds of times."

"Richard Grayson," a woman in teal scrubs called out to the waiting room.

Dick wilted and gave Bruce a pleading look.

Bruce felt a twinge of sympathetic pain. "You're gonna be alright, chum. I'll be here when you come out."

Dick had a look of betrayal on his face as he got up and walked up to the technician. He gave one last look at Bruce, looking like he was walking to his death.

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Just under an hour later Bruce was still sitting in the waiting room, reading one of the newspapers that had been on one of the side tables.

"Mr. Wayne?"

He looked up at the door to the back rooms. It was the same technician who had taken Dick back earlier.

He stood up and walked over. The brunette smiled at him. "He's all done, Mr. Wayne. Can you come back to retrieve him?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

 _Retrieve him? Why didn't they just send him out? Had something gone wrong after all? Was he incapacitated?_

Bruce felt his heart rate increase thinking of all the reasons they would possibly need him to physically retrieve the boy.

She walked them to room four and knocked before entering. "Hi, Dick. Look who I brought with me," she said, suppressing a snicker.

"Broooooooooooose," Dick slurred out happily around the gauze lodged between his back gums. "I knoooooow you."

Bruce exhaled through his nose to cover a laugh.

 _Ah. This would be why he needed to retrieve him. Of course._

He walked over to where Dick was lying in the reclined dentist's chair and put his hand on Dick's forearm.

"How you feeling, Dick?"

Dick spread his arms out into a giant 'Y' shape. "I don' even know anymore." He dropped his arms. "Am I alive?"

"Yes, Dick. You're alive. You survived getting your wisdom teeth out."

Dick's eyes grew wide. "My _whaaaaaaat?"_ He looked over to the lady in teal. "Miss Shell!" he said with an accusatory lisp. "You took my _teeth_?!"

"It's Michelle, Dick. And yes. We're sorry, but we had to take a few of your teeth," Michelle smiled at him, amusement displayed freely on her face.

"Well….I guess you prolly needed 'em more 'an I did," Dick reasoned.

"You can keep them if you want, Dick," Michelle offered cheerily.

Dick looked up at Bruce. "Can I, Bruce? We should keep 'em!"

"I don't know..."

Dick put a floppy arm on Bruce's shoulder with a suddenly serious look on his face. "But Bruce. The _tooth fairy."_

Bruce rolled his eyes but relented. "Alright. That's fine. Whatever you want, Dick."

"Yesssss. Miss Shell! Fetch the tooths!" Dick shouted like he was the captain of a pirate ship, pointing up at the ceiling. He then started to study his arm and wave it around in front of him slowly with an entranced sort of look on his face.

"Here, Mr. Wayne." Michelle handed Bruce a container with the four teeth, already prepared for this scenario. "He's free to go now, if you're ready. He'll be a little wobbly though so be careful."

Bruce took the container and nodded, stuffing it in his pocket.

"My arm feels weird..."

"Oh, yeah?" Bruce put an arm behind Dick's back to help him sit up. "How so?"

"It's like...liiiight….but it's heavyyyy...and _look at it_." Dick held it out for Bruce to look at.

"Hmm. Yep. There it is." Bruce got Dick to stand up and they started to walk out to the front area.

Dick brought up his other arm. "And look at that one! There's another one!"

Bruce swallowed down a chuckle. "Yep. Look at that. You've got both arms. Good job."

Dick went full noodle for a second and Bruce quickly caught him and pulled him back up into a standing position while Dick's feet caught up.

"I have two arms, Brooooose! Oh my gosh! They look sooo weird!"

"Uh-huh. Super skinny." Bruce opened the door.

Alfred was already there, sitting in idle, right where he said he would be.

Bruce put Dick's arm around his neck and quickly picked him up instead of trying to navigate the stairs.

"I'm flying! Aaaaaaah!"

Bruce put him back down at the bottom and they slowly dragged over to the car door where Alfred stood waiting with a twinkle in his eye.

"Master Bruce. I assume everything went alright?"

"Well…" Bruce wasn't sure how to respond, so he just trailed off and helped Dick into the car and got it next to him.

"Broooose."

"What?"

"My face feels poofy."

"Okay. That's fine."

"My fathe ith poofy!" Dick poked at both of his cheeks as Alfred pulled away from the curb.

Bruce was quick to pull the hands down. "Stop poking, Dick. You're gonna loose the gauze."

Dick flopped over onto his lap. "Broooooose..."

"Wha-aat," Bruce asked, unable to stop a laugh from bubbling up.

"Bruuuuu~uuuuucie~! Bruuuuucie, baby~!" Dick started singing in a high-pitched voice to the tune of Sherry by the Four Seasons.

"Oh goodness," Alfred said from the front seat checking the rearview mirror.

"Shhh," Bruce softly covered Dick's mouth.

Dick sat up suddenly and looked out the window. Bruce just barely got out of the way in time.

"Oh my gosh!" Dick rolled his window down and shouted at a woman pushing a stroller, "I LOVE BABIES!"

"Dick!" Bruce pulled Dick away from the window so Alfred could roll it up from the front and put the lock on.

"I love babies," Dick told Bruce seriously. Then just as seriously he said, "I wanna have a baby."

Alfred coughed in the front seat.

Bruce held a fist to his lips to compose himself. "Well….Dick…." He petered off. Unsure what to say here.

"We should get a baby at the baby store," Dick said, grabbing Bruce by the shoulders.

Bruce pried the hands off and held them softly. "Dick...That's not how babies-"

"I want a BABY!" Dick cheered defiantly.

Bruce put a hand on his face. "Alfred…"

"Master Bruce, Master Dick has made his desires very clear. I can stop by East Ave. if you wish."

"Please no. No more children. I don't think I can handle another round of this."

"Alfreeeed! Ooooooo! Sauce…." Dick howled suddenly, surprising Bruce who just raised his eyebrows as high as they could go.

"Yes, Master Dick?" Alfred asked patiently.

"I dunno." Dick frowned and looked out the window again as they stopped at the last red light until the highway home.

"Very good, Master Dick." Alfred pressed on the gas when the light turned green and Dick's eyes widened.

"Woah! We're going sooo fast!"

"We are going 25 mph, Master Dick."

"Oh my gosh. That's so many. Bruce!" He turned to his mentor. "If we die, I want you to know...I love Barbara."

"Yes. I know, Dick. You tell me every day."

"Oh. Okay."

A few minutes went by where Dick didn't say anything, which was a miracle. And then out of nowhere he said, "I love you too though." Dick patted Bruce on the shoulder.

"I know, chum." Bruce smiled and grabbed his hand again. He just held it, petting it like it was a small mammal. Within seconds, Dick's head lolled to the side and Bruce pulled him over so he could rest his head on his shoulder and they continued the rest of the drive in relative silence. Aside from the random mumblings that came from Dick.

Alfred pulled up to the manor and stopped near the front door so Bruce wouldn't have to lug Dick up the additional set of stairs from the garage to the first floor of the manor.

Bruce gave Dick a quick shake.

"Dick. We're home. Wake up."

Dick snapped up. Almost as if he had been aware just seconds prior. "Where are we!"

"Home, Dick. Come on." Bruce got out and pulled Dick with him.

The boy was in awe.

"We have a _home?"_ he asked.

"Yes. It's right there." Bruce pointed to the manor.

Dick looked at the house and then at Bruce and then at the house and back to Bruce. "WE LIVE _HERE?!"_

Bruce patted him on the shoulder. "Yes, chum," he chuckled and squatted down in front of Dick. "Here. Get on my back."

"Woah…" Dick said in awe as he slumped forward and put his arms around Bruce's neck. "It's soooo big."

"Yep." Bruce hooked his hands under Dick's legs and stood up. He kipped him up a little higher on his back for a better hold. "There we go. Let's get you to the couch. How does that sound?"

"I like the word couch." Dick said. "It's fun." Then he rested his still numb cheek on Bruce's shoulder with a hum and closed his eyes.


	2. Tim (Age: 16)

A/N: Well...here's Tim's chapter. Things got very out of hand, but I decided screw it. Gotta post it so I can move on to other things. I blame anything that doesn't make sense and OOCness on anesthesia and all the YouTube videos I watched. Like...seriously...I watched and hour of people saying the weirdest crap and having the best freak outs that didn't make sense. All for research. And they were all hilarious and worth it. If you need a good laugh, go find some of them wisdom teeth removal vine videos.

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Tim didn't hate the dentist. He liked his teeth to be clean. But he could do without them shining that light directly in his eyes. He knows they can see where it's landing on his face. Maybe direct it at his mouth instead? It didn't seem that difficult.

"Well, as usual, you've done an impeccable job with your daily cleaning regiment, Timothy. One of our easiest cleanings every time." Dr. Witek shut the overhead lamp off and brought the chair back up to its original position. He then rolled back on his stool and turned to grab Tim's file, flipping it open. "Hmm. It looks like it's been a while since we took an x-ray. I'll be right back. Caitlyn will be over shortly to get those done for you."

Crap. Tim deflated as the dentist walked away. He hated getting x-rays. Those rectangle things they shoved in his mouth were uncomfortable and they hurt when he tried to bite down.

"Hello, Timothy," Caitlyn greeted as she opened a cupboard and pulled out the x-ray machine. She grabbed the protective vest and laid it over Tim's torso, then grabbed a handful of the despised rectangles. "Okay, he just wants the back molars, so this won't take too long. Open up nice and wide for me."

Tim reluctantly obeyed, trying to keep his cheek and lips lax as she snuck it back until it couldn't go any further, making him feel like he was gagging. He shook his head and she pulled the film back out, squished it a few times to make it a little more malleable before putting it back.

"It'll be over soon. Just bite down." Tim started to bite and made a frustrated noise when the corners stabbed him, making his eyes water. "I know, hon, I know. You just have to bite down a little more. Then we'll do the other side, and that's it." Tim breathed quickly through his nose and forced himself to bite down. It was the only way to get this over with.

The technician pressed the button on the machine and reached in to grab the plastic rectangle. She gave him a minute to breathe and swung the machine to the other side.

"Okay, last one. Open."

Tim endured the second round of torture, and just like that it was over.

"There we go. Good job, Tim. You can go ahead and relax now. Dr. Witek will be back after he sees the x-rays."

Sure enough, Dr. Witek came back but surprisingly Bruce was following right behind him, dressed in his suit and tie as usual.

"So I got to look at the x-rays." He placed the scans on the light box. "If you'll both remember, we briefly spoke about a timeline for when Tim would need to get his third molars removed. Originally planning to get them out next year sometime." Tim nodded slowly, sensing a catch as Dr. Witek pointed a few of the small white spots out. "But. If you look here and here, you can see, the roots are already starting to come in. That's about six, seven months ahead of what we were expecting. This left molar here is getting a little close for comfort and it could start pushing on its neighbor as soon as next month."

"Uh…" Tim looked up at Bruce, not sure he liked the sound of having one tooth bully the other. He liked his teeth and he didn't want to have to get braces this late in the game.

Bruce put a hand on his shoulder. "So where do we go from here?"

"Ideally we would move the timeline up. I'd like to remove them no later than the end of the month. As long as you have no objections."

"None. Whenever you can get him in, we'll make it work."

"Well that settles it," Dr. Witek clapped his hands together. "I'll walk you out to the front desk so we can get him scheduled but first I'd like to go over the pre-surgery requirements and post-treatment guidelines…."

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Less than a week later, Bruce sat in the farthest corner of the waiting room with Dick and Damian, waiting to be called back. Damian huffed next to him for what had to be the twentieth time in the past fifty minutes. Bruce put his phone down.

"What's wrong, Damian?" he asked, not really wanting to know the answer. He was well aware that his son had many complaints regarding this trip.

"This is a waste of our time, father."

Bruce looked up at the ceiling, silently praying that they were almost done.

"I don't see why I had to accompany you two. You could have just left me at the manor. I should be training."

Bruce sighed tiredly. "There was no one there to watch you, Damian. Alfred is off running errands and I needed Dick to help make sure Tim doesn't hurt himself in the back seat."

"Tt. I do not require supervision like some child." Damian rolled his eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Damian…"

"Mr. Wayne?"

Oh thank God.

Bruce quickly vacated his seat. He tossed the car keys to Dick. "You two can go wait in the car. This shouldn't take long."

Dick snatched them out of the air. "Come on, little D."

"So, how did it go?" Bruce asked Caitlyn when he walked up.

She smiled and held the door to the back open for him. "Everything went smoothly. He just woke up a couple minutes ago." Bruce followed her back to room five, where she took a pause. "Now. He's still a bit groggy. And a liiiiitle bit emotional."

"Oh?" Bruce frowned. That wasn't something he'd been prepared to hear.

"It's just a reaction to the anesthesia. Happens with some of the younger patients. Once you get him home, he'll probably just pass out for a few hours and be fine when he wakes up." She knocked softly and quietly opened the door.

Tim was just limply lying in the reclined chair. He turned his head when he heard them enter. His eyes were sad and his mouth pulled down at the corners, he looked like a child that had just been told they couldn't keep all the puppies at the pet store like they wanted.

"Hi, sweetie. Look who I brought," Caitlyn smiled. Tim just became that much sadder and a couple tears travelled from his eyes down toward his ears. "You ready to go home, honey?"

Tim scrunched his eyes shut and took a gasping breath and nodded. "Yeah..." he meeped out, wiping the tears away.

Caitlyn hummed thoughtfully. "I'll be right back, Mr. Wayne. I'm gonna go grab a wheelchair from next door."

Bruce walked up to the sixteen year old's side.

"Hey, Tim. How you feeling?" he asked softly as he placed a hand on Tim's head.

Tim sniffled and got the tears to back off. "Tired…" he said in a watery voice.

"Yeah, I can see that." Bruce said through a chuckle.

A moment later, Caitlyn rolled the chair up next to them.

"Alright," Bruce put an arm under Tim's shoulders and helped him sit up. "Let's get up real quick so we can get you out to the car. How's that sound?"

"My body feels heavy," Tim slurred out as Bruce and Caitlyn helped him into the wheelchair.

"I know, Tim. It's alright."

"Am I-Am I paralyzed," Tim asked miserably, starting to sound a little panicky. A few tears leaked out again and he looked up at Bruce.

"No Tim, you're not paralyzed," Bruce reassured him. "The wheelchair is just so we can get you outside so you don't have to walk."

Tim nodded. That seemed to make him feel a little better and the insane, on off waterworks stopped.

Bruce pushed the chair through the lobby and out to the car where Dick and Damian were already sitting in the car.

Dick saw them coming and got out to open the door just as Bruce stopped and engaged the brakes.

"Hey, Timmy! Oh boy, you look super out of it. How you feelin'?"

"Dick?" Tim looked simultaneously confused and elated that Dick was there.

"Yeah, buddy. I came with you. Remember?" Dick laughed.

Tim's face scrunched up and the tears were back. "Noooo…" he squealed, devastated that he didn't remember, then he covered his face with his hands.

Bruce sighed. He had a feeling this is what it was gonna be like the rest of the way home. Very different from what he'd experienced seven years prior with Dick. It wasn't good for his heart.

Tim hiccupped. "Bruce, it's Dick." His voice was quiet and muffled because of the gauze. "H-he's my brother…" Tim made a high pitched noise in the back of his throat.

"Yes. I know, Tim." Bruce picked him up and transferred him to the back seat so Caitlyn could take the chair back inside. "It's okay," he whispered, running a hand through Tim's hair. "Dick's gonna sit in the back with you. Alright?" He swiped his thumb under Tim's eyes and wiped the tears away before backing out so Dick could get in.

Dick scooted Tim over to the other seat and got in next to him. "Here, let's get you buckled up real quick, buddy." He smiled at his brother and reached across to grab the seat buckle before clicking it into place. "There we go."

"What's wrong with Drake?" Damian asked his father when the man climbed into the driver's seat.

"Anesthesia and pain medication," Bruce answered simply as he started the car and pulled into traffic.

Damian half turned around in his seat to study the older boy. Tim wasn't crying at the moment. Now he just kept touching his cheeks and lips, looking slightly troubled. It was almost like he was searching for something.

"Whatcha doin', Tim?" Dick asked.

"I can't feel my face," Tiim whispered and looked over at Dick worriedly. Tears sprang back once again and he let out a whistling sound. "Dick, my face is gone."

Dick chuckled. "No it's not. Your face is right there. I'm looking at it."

Tim shook his head and let his head flop backwards, suddenly grief-stricken. "They took my fa-aa-aace."

"No they didn't," Dick said, holding back a laugh. "They only took your wisdom teeth."

"Whaaaat?" Tim squeaked as he flipped back up. Shocked by the news that his teeth had been taken. He reached into his mouth, feeling around for the missing molars. Seconds into his search, he frowned and pulled out some of the gauze to inspect it. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the blood. "Ahhhh!"

"Timmy! Put that back!" Dick leaned over, reaching for his brother's flailing hand and missing.

"It's blood. I'm blood. I'm dying!" Tim moaned in anguish, slithering down in the seat as much as the seat belt would allow.

"Tim, put that gauze back right now," Bruce demanded, frowning into the rearview mirror. "Dick."

"I'm working on it."

"I don't wanna die," Tim cried with comic desperation while Damian just watched, not really sure what he was supposed to be doing, if anything.

"Timmy! Timmy. You're not dying! Just put that back in your mouth. Okay?" Dick grabbed one of Tim's wrists and the boy instantly sobered and he looked down to inspect the offending hand. "Go like this, Tim." He put his own fingers into his mouth and waited for Tim to copy him. "Okay, now let go and show me your hand."

Tim pulled a gauze-less hand out and showed it to his brother.

"Open your mouth. Let me see," Dick gently grabbed the boy's chin and pulled down gently.

"Aaah," Tim said as he opened his mouth.

"Okay. Good job, buddy. Let's leave that in there, alright?"

Tim nodded and turned into a noodle, flopping down so he was laid out across the back seat.

"Is he done?" Damian asked, looking at his suddenly crazy brother. Tim's eyes snapped up to Damian and he sat back up. He leaned forward towards Damian, studying him intently.

Damian just scrunched up his face in confusion and pulled away.

Tim looked at Dick with an awed and hopeful expression. "Is he mine?"

"Tch!" Damian looked disgusted.

"What?" Dick laughed with a confused look on his face, not quite sure what the question was. "Damian? Is he...I mean, he's your little brother, but he's not like...yours to keep, if that's what you're asking, bud."

Tim looked back at Damian and his eyes started to get all teary. He sucked in a shaky breath and dropped his head down.

"Aww….What's wrong now, Timmers?" Dick asked gently as Tim started keening.

Tim's breathing hitched again. "But I want him..." he cried forlornly. He wasn't asking a lot.

Damian was fuming in the front seat and Tim pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes. His shoulder shook while he let out a couple of soft gasps.

"H-he's so cute a-and little…" Tim whimpered and made a high-pitched whistling sound.

"You take that back, Drake." Damian turned a furious shade of red at being called his two least favorite words.

"Damian. Leave it," Bruce hushed.

"But-"

Bruce put a hand on Damian's shoulder and made him sit properly. "He can't help it, Damian. Just let it go."

More tears started to fall from Tim and Dick unbuckled to slide into the seat next to him so he could pull him into a hug. "Ohhh," Dick said in that voice people used when they were talking to a toddler that just tripped and started crying. "Shhh. It's okay, Timmy. I'm sorry, baby bird." Dick cradled Tim against his chest.

Tim continued to blubber as Dick rocked him. "I j-just want to have him..."

"Yeah, I know, Timmy. But he's his own person. Okay?" Dick told him and he carded a hand through the crying boy's hair.

"But he n-needs me…" Tim tried to explain. Heart-broken that they wouldn't let him have Damian.

"I do not need you," Damian hissed from the front seat.

"Damian."

"A-and I d-don' wan' him to get hurt…"

"Aw, I know, baby bird. It's okay. He's okay." Dick rubbed a hand along Tim's arm as Bruce pulled into the garage and shut the car off, giving Damian the opportunity to jump out and sprint upstairs. "Look, Timmy. We're back. You wanna go inside?"

"No…." Tim cried as Dick unbuckled him.

The door next to him opened. "Come here, Tim." Bruce put a hand on the teen's shoulder and gently pried him away from Dick. Tim shook his head, but still turned and threw his arms around Bruce's neck.

"Damian…" he mewled.

"I know, Tim. He's already upstairs. Let's go find him, okay," Bruce said, pulling him into a hug.

"Okay," Tim agreed. He was starting to calm down again. With a sigh, he let his head fall to rest on Bruce's shoulder.

"Aw, Timmy. You're making my heart hurt." Dick came over so he could shut the door.

Bruce tightened an arm around Tim's back and grabbed his legs with the other before lifting him up. He walked up the stairs, quickly moving through the kitchen to the den, and sat down on the couch with a very sleepy Tim.

"I want Damian…" Tim sniffled.

"Damian," Bruce called up the stairs.

"No! I'm studying!"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "You're homeschooled. Get down here."

He saw Dick quickly dash upstairs, heard a door open a few seconds later, and then there was a bang that sounded like a book being thrown against a wall.

"Unhand me, Grayson!" Damian screeched.

"First. Ow. I'm literally right here. Second. No. Come on, Dami. He's sad. And he loves you."

"This is a violation of my human rights!" Damian shouted as Dick came back to where Bruce was sitting with Tim.

Dick put Damian on his feet, but kept his hands on the boy's shoulder. "Damian. Look at him. He's already half asleep. Just sit with him for a little bit. As soon as he's out, you can go back upstairs and disappear until it's time for patrol. Okay?"

"Tch!" Damian crossed his arms and looked away, but he didn't leave.

"Thank you."

"Whatever," he huffed and slumped down on the opposite side of the couch. He looked over at his older brother and rolled his eyes with a reluctant sigh. "Come here, Drake..."

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A/N: Tim actually wasn't supposed to be the one who had the crying jags. I was gonna make that Jason. But then I read that it's more common for young patients to get all emotional after anesthesia. So I changed my mind. It's not a great chapter, but there were moments I was happy with. Overall though...I feel kinda meh about this one. Oh well. Hope it wasn't too awful. Lol


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